Quest for the Hope Diamond
by Lady Elena Dawson
Summary: Rick O'Connell is a busy man - from finding ancient treasure to fighting bad guys, he has no time to settle down. Despite the challenges he'd faced, planning his wedding seems to be the hardest task of them all as he's thrown into an expedition to uncover the location of the priceless Hope Diamond. However, there's always a twist, and a curse happens to be one of them.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Being new to this archive and only seeing the movie a couple of times, I still find the romance and the story of _The Mummy _fascinating, and always wanted to write a fanfiction with Evie and Rick. Since I'm much more of a _Titanic _gal (Jack and Rose happen to be my favorite movie couple of all time), I've been too busy with those stories than I have been brainstorming about a _Mummy _idea. Now here it is, after a long wait.**

**I've always found the Hope Diamond and the tales it's become infamous for, and after having a new obsession for _The Mummy, _I began making a connection to the characters and the supposedly cursed jewel. This prologue, as I'll call it, is rather informative, and to some may be rather boring, so I won't mind if you skim through it. I just wanted to give some background information like they do in the movies. (However, not being a movie but instead writing, it won't be as provocative.) **

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**Disclaimer: I do not own _The Mummy _(1999.)**

_**Quest for the Hope Diamond**_

_**By Lady Elena Dawson**_

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**Prologue**

Almost three hundred years ago, a blue diamond, one of the rarest of its kind, was stolen from its place as the eye of sacred statue in seventeenth century India. No one knew who it was, and no one knew where that one hundred-fifteen carat diamond had ended up—until a fellow Frenchman, Jean-Baptiste Tavernier, sold it into possession of the French royal family more than fifty years after it went missing.

Later, Tavernier became bankrupt and was suspiciously killed by a wild pack of dogs.

Royal as he was, King Louis XIV found pride in the gem, and ordered it to be cut into a sixty-nine carat blue diamond, officially naming it the Blue Diamond of the Crown. His loyal court jeweler, Sieur Pitau, took two years on carefully carving the diamond, making sure that it was something the king could be proud of.

Set in gold and tied to a ribbon, it embellished the king's neck for many special ceremonies, no harm befalling the French noble.

Years later, his son, King Louis XV, inherited the triangular-shaped necklace and had it decorated with red and yellow painted diamonds to make a more elaborate and flamboyant piece of jewelry, calling it the Order of the Golden Fleece. But after his death it was no longer worn, save for when it was taken out of its flashy ornament and taken by his grandson, Louis XVI.

Despite the haunting stories that were starting to appear, King Louis XVI presented the ostentatious jewel to his young wife Marie Antoinette, who accepted it with delight. She kept the Crown Jewels, including the French Blue, in safe-keeping, only taking it out to wear for events but never touching it. As revolution became a certainty and war raged on the streets, the royal family—and all aristocrats and nobles—had their heads met by the slicing blade of the guillotine.

A year before, the blue diamond had been stolen from the French government and seemed to disappear from the Earth once again, believed to be cut multiple times until eventually ending up in the busy city of London.

Years after its recovery, the much smaller stone was auctioned off to the wealthy Hope family. It was said to have been in possession of the British royal family for the past couple decades, but nothing was sure; some would say the supposed curse was increasing its bad luck as the years of ownership progressed. Later Francis Hope's wife left him and he had to sell the jewel, dubbed the Hope Diamond, to pay off his horrible debts.

Yet, the stone kept circulating. Abdul Hamid, the sultan of Turkey at that time, was overthrown, his wife having shot herself; Jacques Colet, a jeweler, went insane and committed suicide; Prince Ivan Kanitowksi was murdered by Russian revolutionists, and the actress he gave it to, Mademoiselle Lorens Ladue, was shot the day she wore the necklace on stage.

It traveled across the seas and to the United States, eventually coming into the curious hands of Evalyn McLean. Mesmerized by the tale of curses and misfortunes Pierre Cartier shared, she took it home with her, even though she had rejected it the first time it was offered. Throughout her tragic life, her brother died early, her eldest son was killed in a traffic accident when he was nine, and her husband developed a mental illness after divorcing her. McLean died from pneumonia years later, but what was forgotten to be mentioned was her daughter, who was twenty-five at the time of her death—McLean's great-granddaughter inherited the diamond, and also died, strangely enough, at twenty-five-years old.

Some said the terrible tragedies that came with the Hope Diamond were bound to happen. Others, however, didn't believe they were merely coincidences.

It is here, in the McLeans' possession, that our story starts.


	2. Chapter One: An Engagement

**A/N: Now that that boring prologue is done with, here's the official first chapter!**

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**Chapter One: An Engagement**

Never before had there been so much rain. For the whole summer, it was the first day after a long week of dry weather that there had been rain pounding from above, dotting the London streets with inches of cool water. The gray, dreary clouds darkened the night sky; cars sped on their way splashing puddles, wipers furiously clearing the windowpane. The lights of the British Museum lit up the black night with its streetlamps and lighted pillars, looming over the cobbled streets.

Evelyn Carnahan particularly loved the British Museum for many reasons, one mainly being its Egyptian artifacts. But most of all, its diversity was matched by the hundreds of rare treasures from countries all the way across the globe from Egypt—China, Italy, Greece. They were all there, and Evy always found excitement in each new piece of evidence from a different time, a different life.

A loud clap of thunder erupted across the city, making the bookshelves rattle and shake in the museum's books and archives. Evy gasped in surprise as the ladder she stood on jittered, and her hands clamped on tightly as her body stiffened. The whole night it had been pouring rain and flashing lightning, so of course that meant thunder. But the irritating sound of rumbling always knocked her out of concentration whenever she read the interesting facts and dates printed within pages and pages of ancient Egyptian writing.

"Now where's that sheet?" she muttered to herself as she scanned the English-written pages on the many artifacts displayed across the museum. This time, after filing an heirloom of a noble French family who had been beheaded during the revolution, she was searching for the bibliographical data scribed for a goddess she'd been dying to learn more about. But there was only one problem: She had forgotten her name.

Evy batted through her brain, trying to remember what it could have been called. "Ra something?" she uttered, closing her eyes and furrowing her eyebrows. "No, that can't be it... She's not a sun god." Then she realized something else, pressing a cold, wet palm on her cheek. "What kind of god is she?" She exhaled deeply and rolled her eyes. "Lord help me."

She went back to sorting through the files, taking a precarious step up on the rickety wooden ladder to check the next shelf. Immediately she felt her heeled shoes slipping, and she shrieked as she lost her footing—which was saved in less time than it had taken her to almost collapse on the ground. Sighing in relief, she pulled herself back up the two steps she had fallen down and continued to rummage through the thousands of papers and books available to her in the museum.

Another clap of thunder, but this time Evy didn't flinch. With a triumphant smile on her face, she reread the words printed on the paper and remembered whom she was looking for—Tefnut, the goddess of rain!

And what a coincidence, too, with the weather as it was!

"Here it is!" Evy exclaimed, but right after she did so, a voice startled her from below.

"Hey, Evy, you want to—"

Rick O'Connell wasn't able to finish his sentence when his girlfriend came tumbling from the ladder. Having no time to think, he instinctively ran to her side and caught her, swiftly, in his arms.

"That was a close one, Evy," Rick said as she put a horrified hand to her chest, rolling her head back and closing her eyes in shock. "I thought I almost lost you there."

"_God_, Rick," she overstated exasperatedly, slapping him playfully on the arm. "Why can't you just keep your mouth shut?" Pushing herself out of her arms, her feet landed on the ground of the archives in a graceful _clack _motion.

"All right, Evy, since you think you're always right, let's talk about you."

Evy scoffed and raised her finger in mock accusation. "Mr. Connell, I am _not _full of myself!"

But Rick ignored her frisky plea. "Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?" He pointed to the ladder, which had tilted on its side when she had fallen.

There was a high-pitched snort, and Evy was shaking her head. "I can't believe you just said that." Putting her hands on his shoulders, she pushed him lightly so she could pass him. "For your information, I was looking for some data sheets for a certain Egyptian goddess. I happened to find them when you rudely snuck up on me." She bent down and picked up the spilled papers, shuffling them up neatly and stashing them in her shoulder bag, making sure he saw how many pages of listed sources there were. "Just look at all the books I get to read!"

He did nothing but blink. "I'm used to you reading all the time."

Grinning at her naïve boyfriend, she cocked her head to the door. "Let's take a walk."

As they strolled through the museum, Rick planned another conspiracy against Evy—but this time, a more romantic instead of startling one. He decided to stop her constant blabbing with a passionate kiss on the lips, sending Evy into a state of shock as she mumbled before finally allowing him to pull her closer.

When the embrace finally ended, Evy sighed deeply. "Mm," she mumbled, opening her eyes to look into his. "That was nice." Then she slapped his cheek, Rick muttering an "Ow!" and squeezing his eyelids closed.

"What was that for?" he cried.

She pinched his cheek like he was a young child. "_That_, my dear, wasfor embarrassing me in front of all these mummies."

Looking around, Rick noticed there were Egyptian artifacts, tombs, and shriveled mummies in glass boxes all around them. "Point taken," he said before following her out of the building.

When she opened the door and saw the rain pounding on the stone slab steps, Evy swore under her breath. "Blast!" she hissed, drawing her coat over her mane of brown curls. Rick appeared from behind her, whistling. "It just got worse," he said.

Evy sighed for the millionth time that day. "I should have brought my leather bag," she uttered, referring to her soft, definitely-not-waterproof portfolio-style sack. As she twitched her lips back and forth, she saw a shiny automobile in the distance. "Rick," she said, pointing to it, "is that your car over there?"

"Um," he mumbled, squinting his eyes. "Yeah."

She nodded her head firmly, her hazel, cat-like eyes staring into his. "We're going to have to make a run for it."

Rick shrugged his shoulders, pulling his raincoat tighter. "Or I could just pull it up to the side for you."

Evy bit her bottom lip. "Well." She exhaled it in a single breath. "I apologize if I wanted to take the more _adventurous _approach."

…

As Rick drove through the pattering rain and down the London streets, Evy just couldn't stop blabbing away. Rick guessed it was the excitement of finding something new to read and learn about, or maybe because she needed twelve hours of sleep after the long night in the library she had spent the other day. "I mean, you don't think I'm an annoyance, do you?" she asked after complaining about how her brother had slammed the door in her face a couple of days ago. "That was pretty presumptuous of Jonathan, don't you think so?"

Rick just gripped the wheel tighter, his teeth clenched. As much as he loved this woman, she was sometimes too _much _of a handful. "An annoyance? Of course you're not, Evy, what are you saying?" he said, paying much more attention than needed rounding the corner.

Satisfied, Evy settled back down in her seat. It was only then that she realized he had passed her home. "Where are we going?" she asked curiously.

"You'll see." Rick managed to smile as his brain disposed of Evy's mindless chatter. "Evy, honey, I think you talked my eardrum out."

She seemed slightly offended. "_I _talked _your _eardrum out?" she scoffed. "What about the time you kissed me withoutwarning?"

Again, Evy would be satisfied; Rick couldn't make a smart retort there. "Touché."

Eventually they came upon an elaborate restaurant known for its Egyptian cuisine. "Oh, I adore this place!" Evy exclaimed as she jumped out of the car, exhilarated.

"How about we make a deal?" Rick said as he led her in and got settled in their seats. "I won't bore you to death if you don't drink too much wine."

Mocking surprise, Evy pointed to herself. "_Me _not drink this delicious red wine?" she gasped, referring to the bottle Rick had ordered. Never keeping her eyes off of him, she grabbed it and uncorked it. "My good Mr. O'Connell, you should see yourself when you're as drunk as I will soon be." With that, she downed a good portion of it, smacking her lips and setting it back down on the table when she was done. She had completely thrown manners out the window.

However, Rick didn't seem as pleased. "I'm serious, Evy, tonight's not a good night to get drunk."

"Why ever not?" There it was, making Rick shudder—another large gulp of primarily expensive red wine.

"Because what if I need to ask you a serious question you can't answer correctly unless you're sober?" Her eyes widened, and he quickly added, "You know, because if you answer it now you might not, uh, mean it later."

Evy pointed her index finger at him and leaned forward, one perfect eyebrow rising. "I can't think of one single question like that." She waved the waiter over. "Now, let's order before we waste more time with this nonsense."

After dinner and a small, sophisticated chat—Rick was proud Evy hadn't ended up stoned—he asked her if she wanted to get some fresh air on the restaurant's balcony. "It's beautiful out after the rain stops," he slyly went with, taking her small hand in his.

As the view from the balcony came into Evy's sight, she gasped in delight. "Rick, you were right! It _is _beautiful out here!" She pointed to the streetlamps in the distance, glowing in the night sky. "Would you look at that. If I didn't come from city life, I could almost mistake those as stars." Tilting her head up, she examined the blanket of darkness above her, speckled with shiny blots. "Gorgeous," she muttered under her breath, more to herself than anything.

Meanwhile, as Evy fawned over the view of the night, Rick couldn't help but notice how firm his grip was on the stone railing. Her exuberance didn't rub off on him—it only made him more nervous. "Listen, Evy," he choked out, clearing his throat by pounding his fist anxiously on his chest. Her large, hazel eyes bore into his blue ones, making him—like the evening could get any worse—sweat. "I know the moment's a little, uh, cliché, but…"

And he got down on one knee (awkwardly, may I add). Taking Evy's left hand in his, he gazed at her face filled with wonderment, her mouth an O-shape. Like she always did when she was awkward, she fumbled with incoherent words and fluttered her eyelashes a bit. Eventually, though, she bit her lips shut and gave him her full, loving attention.

"Evelyn Carnahan, will you marry me?" When she didn't respond right away, just stood there in total and utter shock, he inserted "Me as in Richard O'Connell, of course" into the conversation out of nerves.

When Evy spoke, it was calmer than Rick expected it to be. "Evelyn O'Connell?" she sighed, thinking it over. "It has a nice ring to it." A bright smile encasing her face, she half said, half yelled, "Of course it's a yes!"

As he was pulled into a suffocating hug, Rick was even more stunned than Evy was. "A yes?" he repeated as though the word was cursed—and he knew a thing or two about curses.

"Yes, yes!" she cried, kissing and hugging him with an astonishing passion. All Rick could do was embrace her back, and slip the small diamond ring on her finger while their foreheads touched.

"Did I ever tell you how pretty your eyes are?" he said, pushing a lock of her curly hair behind her ear before putting his hands on her waist, close.

"Multiple times," she responded, smiling so wide her teeth were showing. "Even in your sleep."

They shared one final hug before embarking home for the night. As he rested his chin on her shoulder, he put his lips to her ear and whispered, "That's just how much I love you."

…

When Evy got home, Jonathan was kept up until midnight by her excited chatter and flaunted engagement ring. "It was all so romantic, Jonathan, I wish you had been there!" she exclaimed, then she realized what she said. "You know what, never mind, I'm glad you weren't there!"

"It's nice to see you too, old mum," he sighed, his eyes drooping as he tried to stay awake. Evy noticed his dilemma and gave him a peck on the cheek.

"Good night, Jonathan," she said, biting her bottom lip.

He saluted her, making her laugh. "And a good night to you, _Mrs. _O'Connell."

That night, Evy couldn't dare of sleeping. She felt as though the whole thing had been a dream, and she'd wake up and find that it had never happened, and she'd be boring librarian Evelyn Carnahan. With Rick, she'd be an adventurer!

Gazing down at her new ring adorning her left hand, the diamond glinted in the moonlight. It was then that she realized she was being silly, and she'd wake up with it still on—or the let the mummy curse her again.


End file.
